Playboy Interview: Lech Walesa

By now his story has taken on the trappings of a legend. An unemployed Polish electrician named Lech Walesa scaled a fence at the Lenin Shipyard in Gdansk, Poland, to join striking workers who were occupying the plant. Within days, he had become the leader of the strike and was demanding that the Polish government give workers the right to form free trade unions, unprecedented in an Eastern European Communist country. Six months later, Walesa had become one of the most powerful men in Poland, leader of the 10,000,000-member Solidarity union. By December, he was on the cover of Time and spotlighted in its "Man of the Year" coverage for 1980. Time called him "one of the Communist world's most charismatic figures," and noted that "from his first appearance in the striking shipyard last August, Walesa showed an instinctive ability to inspire crowds and win their trust ... [mesmerizing] audiences with a mixture of folksy quips and deadly serious admonitions."

In the months since Walesa's rise to international fame and unprecedented power in Poland, the world has watched him lead his Solidarity union into a series of tough confrontations with Polish leaders. It has also watched the Soviet Union mass thousands of troops and artillery along the Polish border in a not-so-subtle reminder of what happens to Russian satellites when they stray too far from the socialist orbit.

Throughout it all, Walesa (his name is pronounced Lek Vah-when-sah) has maintained a careful balance in his public image of international media celebrity interviewed by Walter Cronkite and humble, deeply religious Polish workingman. When he appears in public in Poland, he is the object of adulation, signing autographs, and traveling with a squad of bodyguards. Yet his favorite response to admirers is often "I am not your master, I am your servant." To factory workers he has been known to say that "anyone who turns his head as I walk by isn't doing his job."

Walesa has also managed to become adept at both public speaking and political infighting. In front of mass audiences who sometimes chant "Long live Walesa," he is calm, understated and given to parables and simple anecdotes that enhance his image as an average Polish worker with little formal education. Yet he has been able to motivate an entire country to stand up to Soviet domination and has become a symbol of Poland reborn. Within a few weeks after his rise to power in Gdansk, he engineered a major strike that brought Poland to a standstill for exactly one hour. In public, he seems to draw out of all Poles latent feelings of both patriotism and Catholicism. He rarely misses daily Mass. He ivears a medallion of the Virgin Mary in his lapel. When he appears in public to speak, a large crucifix is installed on the wall near him.

Recently, however, Walesa has become considerably more moderate and conciliatory and has taken a softer line on strikes. "Let us stick to what we have already achieved for the time being. Otherwise, we might lose everything," he told a group of workers who threatened another strike. "There is a danger that they might reply with tanks and rockets," he added, with no need to state who "they" were.

In negotiations with Polish officials, Walesa is known as a bargainer who speaks softly but carries enormous clout. In addition to fighting for free trade unions, he has managed to get government concessions for increased wages, less media censorship and even radio broadcasts of Sunday Mass. He is always careful to deny that he is "antisocialist," insisting that he is a union man out to better the lot of the worker. Bringing down the government is not his aim, he maintains.

At the age of 39, Walesa seems an unlikely figure to be articulating a country's unhappiness with its rulers. Although he has been active in union activity in Poland since 1970, he seems to have come out of nowhere. The son of a carpenter, Walesa is an electrician by trade, who happened to be working at the Gdansk shipyard in 1970 when bloody riots over the high price of food erupted and at least 45 people were killed. Six years later, he was fired from his job at the shipyard for protesting too vigorously that the government hadn't made good on concessions granted to workers after the rioting. It was not the last job he was to lose for his labor activities.

However, by 1978, a Polish Pope had been installed in the Vatican and the climate seemed better for Walesa's ideas. He was instrumental in the formation of a small free trade union on the Baltic Coast, and by 1980, another government decision that raised food prices led to another protest at the same Gdansk shipyard and Walesa's climb to fame.

In private, Walesa strikes yet another balance between simple living and the accouterments of power that have fallen to him. Critics say he has become a demagog, interrupting others to voice his opinions and expecting them, to be followed. The trappings of celebrity have piled up. He often travels by government-supplied helicopter, and a pipe or a cigarette, symbol of hard-to-get tobacco in Poland, is ever present in his hand. He and his wife of 12 years, Miroslawa, and their six children have moved to a six-room apartment from their former two-room flat, and Walesa's wardrobe now includes four suits in addition to the wrinkled one he invariably wore only a year ago. His salary is now $333 per month, about average for a shipyard worker in Poland, and it is drawn from the Solidarity union he has been instrumental in founding.

If his own personal life seems relatively sound, he is deliberately vague about where he intends to lead his country. He once told an interviewer that he had a vision for what he wanted Poland to become; but when asked to describe it, he replied, "Not in an interview." Even though he is a man of very little formal education, he has surrounded himself with some of the ablest advisors in Poland. With food shortages seeming to bring Poland to the very brink of catastrophe in recent weeks, Walesa is being put to perhaps his severest test yet. So far, he has managed to strike a balance between the hard-line radicals who want more reforms faster and the Russians who may be becoming increasingly restless.

To obtain an interview with one of the most significant figures in postwar Europe, Playboy sent Ania and Krysia Bittenek to Warsaw in October. The sisters are American journalists of Polish extraction (both speak fluent Polish) who have had extensive contacts with Solidarity officials in the past tumultuous year.

The sisters first obtained a commitment for an in-depth interview from Solidarity's press spokesmen. But when they arrived in Warsaw, the confusion surrounding daily wildcat strikes, food shortages and a totally disorganized bureaucracy resulted in a wait of almost three weeks before they finally met Walesa.

Ushered abruptly into his presence at the drab union headquarters in Warsaw, the Bitteneks were told they would have only ten minutes with an obviously tired Walesa. As he sat down to speak, at least two, and sometimes four men, variously introduced as aides or bodyguards, were in nervous attendance. Walesa, despite his fatigue, seemed the most convivial person in the room.

The questions asked by the Bitteneks were evidently provocative enough to Walesa that the "ten minutes" stretched to more than an hour, during which many topics, both light and serious, were covered. The journalists had other questions to ask and pressed Walesa hard for more interview sessions. But time was precious because the Solidarity Congress was in progress, and the pressure was increased by an announcement that Walesa would meet with Prime Minister Wojciech Jaruzelski and Archbishop Jozef Glemp, the first such three-way political summit in Poland's history. The days of waiting for a follow-up interview session stretched into weeks, until it became clear that there was no assurance Walesa would see the Playboy reporters again before the end of the year.

A look at the first session's dialog, however, as transmitted to playboy's New York office by telex, was enough to convince us that what we received was worthy of publication. It more than makes up for its brevity by being a rare and revealing look at a man under nearly impossible pressure; the often-frantic quality of the conversation and the abrupt switches to dark humor and folktale parables add up to a portrait of a man we have not seen depicted elsewhere.

Interestingly, the transmission of the text of the interview was halted when one of Walesa's translated answers dealt with the actions of the police in Poland. It picked up shortly thereafter, presumably after censors had reassured themselves as to the nature of Walesa's remarks.

Playboy: We've been waiting nearly three weeks to speak with you. Obviously, you've had many important things to do, but other journalists have been in and out. Do you have a problem with Playboy?

Walesa: I'm not prejudiced against the magazine. I just don't have time. For now, I'm giving you ten minutes because you have been persistent. I am so tired, both physically and psychologically, that I want you to finally give me some peace. I'm giving you your ten minutes, so take advantage of them. You've already spent two minutes. Such is life. I can't satisfy everyone.

Playboy: Then it wasn't a bias against-----

Walesa: Who told you that?

Playboy: One of the men in your press office.

Walesa:Jezus, the man is crazy. You can tell him I said so. I have never had a bias against anyone. You've now spent almost three minutes.

Playboy: Seven more minutes is certainly not what we came to Poland for, nor what your people promised us, but we'll do what we can.

Walesa: Look, please understand, today I have a more important goal. I respect you. After all, the press made a star out of me. That makes me happy. I owe you a lot. Without you, I would be nothing, it's true. But I have my main priority. Now you've used up four minutes.

Playboy: Here's our first question. Do you-----

Walesa: All right, I take it all back! You can start over with ten full minutes. Let's see what will happen.

Playboy: Fine. You're an interesting breed of political leader. You are at the head of a democratic process, which is new for Poland, but some of your tactics are those of a dictator. Do you consider yourself something of a benign dictator?

Walesa: No, I'm a democratic dictator.

Playboy: What does that mean?

Walesa: Well, I know that I ascertain our goals in a democratic way: We agree on a framework together. But the realization of this framework, of these goals, is my business. I handle them in a dictatorial way. Do we understand each other?

Playboy: Do you establish any restraints for yourself? Do you just bludgeon those in your way?

Walesa: No, I do not wage war, I do not conduct some great battle. For the time being, I do not shoot to get things done. I select my advisors, I rely on them. I use tricks, devices in order to accomplish the tasks I am given.

Playboy: Given the fact that you established this framework of Solidarity a year ago, why has it taken so long to realize your goals?

Walesa: Come on. This is a movement that is 10,000,000 strong. You must realize what our geographical and political position is. You realize where we are.

Playboy: All right, but that's true only as far as tactics go. We'll keep it general and ask you simply: What is your goal?

Walesa: My goal: for Poland to be Poland.

Playboy: Meaning what?

Walesa: Meaning that Poland will be Poland when we shall speak what we think. We shall be richer than the Yanks, for instance. Because we can be. We are no stupider than you. Certainly not. We just live in a country that brought us up with different social models to follow. So we had to assume different attitudes. We learned despite our models, so that is why we are actually stronger, better off than you are. Still, one has to make the most out of what one is given. Whether we will or will not is a question. But I think we will.

Playboy: How can you hope for that kind of prosperity, and especially that kind of freedom, as long as Poland is part of the Soviet bloc?

Walesa: We have attained one tremendous accomplishment: In the past year, we have survived. This is the greatest accomplishment of all. We survived for a year. This year we also showed them our hand, our aims, our goals. We signaled to them what we wanted. Next year, after this [Solidarity workers'] congress, we should begin to realize those aims. Then we shall be able to pursue the dream of this Poland that we have imagined.

I see two Polands: I see the one we dream of and, at the same time, I see the present Poland, beset with difficulties. I see the games each side plays, I see the variants of those games. But I am---we are---capable of winning every single variant of every game! I know, it sounds like phenomenal conceit [laughs], but there you are.

Playboy: Given the pressures on you, how, specifically, do you intend to accomplish even a few of those goals?

Walesa: If I were to tell you that----- [An aide interrupts.]

Aide: Don't reveal your tactics.

Walesa: I would help those who don't wish us well. So I won't do it.

Playboy: All right, we'll go back to more general themes. You say you have a dream of what your ideal Poland would be. Can you describe it? What would your Poland be like?

Walesa: Independent, self-governing. [An aide again interrupts.]

Aide: Self-financing!

Walesa: A Poland in which one can speak, one can write, which one can leave, to which one can come.

Playboy: In which military or trade agreements are made by free choice?

Walesa: No, no! The military does not concern us at all! We want to fight with the same weapons we are using now. With those weapons we can smash tanks, cannons, neutron bombs. And smash them we will!

Playboy: For all your rhetoric, Poland is a shambles as we speak. What are your specific ideas for rebuilding the country economically?

Walesa: You must realize one tiling: I lead this movement and my main task is to keep the movement together. We may quarrel and fight, but we must stand together. It is my job to keep it tight and strong. But I am not the alpha and the omega, the be-all and end-all. Specific problems will be solved by those I lean on, people who are wise, advisors, experts, people who really have something to say. I must choose the best ideas after discussing them in a democratic manner. Specific problems will be solved by people in specific fields; for example, education, commerce, foreign trade. I would be some sort of peasant philosopher if I were to take all that on myself. I know nothing of such things. All I know is that Poland must be different from what it is today, based on sound laws and principles of profit. It is this I will squeeze out of the groups whose task it is to think about these things.

Playboy: Are you afraid that despite your popular support, people will get tired of this struggle? After all, it's been more than a year and from a practical standpoint, things have gotten worse in Poland.

Walesa: One can get tired of many things. Even making love can tire you. So you should make an effort to concentrate on things that are both pleasure-giving and useful. Work can also be love, you know.

Playboy: As it should be-----

Walesa: And vice versa. Love can be nothing but work. [Laughs heartily]

Playboy: We were in Poland last year and one of the things that have struck us most during this visit is that people on the street have stopped being afraid. Do you agree with that?

Walesa: Let me reflect on that. ... I once heard about some kind of sea animal that commits suicide by swimming right up on the beach. I have this dread that it might be that we are doing a similar thing. You cannot just disregard realities and become happy and euphoric without wondering if it all might be wrong, this euphoria. And it would be tragic if it turned out that way.

But, at the same time, yes, we are not afraid. Because we have a soul. It is not a soul so much in the religious sense as in the spiritual sense. We have a goal. We know that man does not live by bread alone, that he's not automatically content when he's well fed and he has a lot of dollars. We know, somehow, that inner satisfaction is worth more, that there is nothing to be afraid of. We shall all go one day, anyway. You know, we have something that you people have less of. You have some of it, but not much.

Playboy: And so you are afraid of no one?

Walesa: No, of no one, of nothing. Of God alone. I believe that.

Playboy: Then, is it fair to say that since the formation of Solidarity, the threat is larger but the intimidation smaller?

Walesa: Let me put it differently. Someone could say that because Christ was crucified, it means he lost. He lost because he was crucified. But he's been winning for 2000 years. The fact that I lose today because someone breaks my jaw, or hangs me, does not mean I lost. It only means I lost physically, as a man. But the idea, whatever happens later, may prove to be a greater victory.

I can say that our victory is certain. Certain! I do not know how long it will take or how high the price will be, but we shall smash a few things over in your country. Because this is nearly the 21st Century, and we can no longer think in the same old terms. Even you still think in such terms---threats, tanks, one worker killing another worker. If small things go my way, in 50 years I am convinced that someone could order us: Fight with this woman soldier. But we will kiss.

Playboy: How would you like to be remembered? What would you like school children to read about in history books?

Walesa: It would be best if they left me alone, if they did not bring flowers to my grave. For it would all be artificial. Someone would have ordered the school children to be there, someone would have proclaimed it Walesa Day or something. The person brings flowers because he was told to, because someone praised me, when, in reality, the person never really knows whether I deserved the praise. No one ever got to know a man to his very depths and no one ever will.

Playboy: You seem to have an ambivalent opinion of yourself. How do you see yourself as a leader? Are you a prophet? An accident?

Walesa: I see myself as a very unhappy man. A very unhappy man whom fate---with some help from me---has thrown into this position of leadership. I fell into it and only then looked around. Leadership seemed interesting, stimulating---until I saw what goes on behind the scenes. Once I learned all of that, I didn't like it at all. But, at the same time, I cannot get out of it. It would look bad and be wrong. If someone were to throw me out, I would thank him personally. When I am absolved of responsibility, I shall be a happy man. I would live differently.

Playboy: What would you do?

Walesa: Fish, write books. I'd write books and earn money. Earn a lot of money. See other countries, travel all over the world in a big bus with a bathroom and everything. I'd like to have a lot of money, because now I can't---no, I'm not interested in money! I'd write, fish, travel, sight-see, make love, and so forth.

Playboy: You say you'd write books, but you don't read much, do you?

Walesa: I'd like to, but I don't have the time.

Playboy: It's been rumored that you've never read a book; is that true?

Walesa: No, it's not true. For instance, I did read my primer in kindergarten. [His Aides laugh.]

Playboy: We'd better get back to our political questions.

Walesa: We are way over your ten minutes, but you are so nice I shall talk to you some more.

Playboy: You're pretty charming yourself.

Walesa: Of course I am. [Laughs]

Playboy: Putting aside the daily headlines, do you think you could put your revolt into a historical context?

Walesa: Well, some say that the history of the world turns in circles. I find that to be a bit so, a bit not so. People and conditions are different. If someone wanted to speak generally, he would insist that history turns in circles, but we are different because our grandmothers were different.

Playboy: In what way?

Walesa: Oh, come on. They were different from us because we have travel and communications that let us get any where, hear anything, in a flash. But we still don't communicate or get there on time. Our grandmother could climb into a horse and buggy, make her trip and still find time for fun. We take a plane and are late.

Playboy: We meant what differences were there with regard to your being Polish? Is there something about the Polish experience specifically that affects this period of history?

Walesa: As Poles? I answered that indirectly already. From bad examples we learned good things. Therefore, we are wiser than you, because you learned good things from good examples. We had a bad school in which to learn, but from ideology alien to us, we learned a new and splendid ideology.

Poles are best at everything! Although I don't know history, for I didn't study---as you may have noticed. I don't know my dates, and so on---I do know one thing: The system that was put into place here is as if you took someone to a place where it was very hot and dressed him in a heavy sheepskin. Poland was always a rather free country. To a large extent, we are democratic. We hobnobbed with France, England, America and others. All of a sudden, we were ordered to love something else. We have freedom, justice, and so forth, in our blood and no one can hold us captive! Many a time we paid an awful lot. After all those payments that have been made, now we have figured out something so as not to pay this time.

Playboy: We read somewhere that you had the worst marks in school in history; now, here you are, creating history yourself. Doesn't it frighten you to be playing at these high stakes with your limited background?

Walesa: No. You have to look at me from a different standpoint. I was very gifted until the seventh grade---damn gifted! I just glanced at the material and learned it. But as more and more material piled up, I felt less and less like opening the books. I was always interested in something else: not in what was assigned to me, but whatever I wanted to learn. I always reached the same goals in a different way. But later I felt too proud to return---I had driven myself into a corner. So it isn't good to be too gifted, because you lose certain normal opportunities to get ahead. But I would still say it is better to be a bee that knows it has the ability to collect honey but does not rush immediately for the big beehive, where it can fall in and get stuck.

Playboy: That's interesting, but it doesn't answer our question: How much do you trust yourself and your abilities as you make these historical decisions?

Walesa: I don't trust myself at all, that is the truth. I'm never convinced completely that what I'm doing is right. Everything can be turned around. What we imagine today to be exactly right, in 50 years people might say: What fools they were! Why did they do such and such? They could have done it differently! They didn't realize that the situation was favorable toward them. We punch someone in the jaw today and later on someone will say: Damn it, they were irresponsible! They could have gotten their way quietly. They could have made gains more slowly, less violently. You cannot say that this is the way or this isn't the way. You cannot! What seems right today, tomorrow may prove wrong. It's like with some writers: Some book is dismissed today, and later they dig it up. Jezus and Maria, how wise it is now! Why was that book ever banned or burned?

Playboy: Do you think one of your books might meet that fate?

Walesa: Me? I don't know how to write.

Playboy: What about all those books you're going to write when you retire?

Walesa: Who? Me? I'll talk the way I'm talking now. I'll say to someone, "Listen, write this down." And out of it should come a book. But not a boring one. It has to be interesting. It has to overturn the old theories. And, at the same time, describe them, restore them in order to overturn them. Ha! Such exactly is life---strange and paradoxical. [An Aide again interrupts.]

Aide: You people asking about education and such cannot go beyond a certain viewpoint-----

Walesa: No, no. They cannot leave their circle.

Playboy: Our editor wanted us to ask about your personal background-----

Aide: People from the West, in general, think this way.

Walesa: Exactly---and, again, even this editor, who has more learning, more letters in his head than I do, who should know more, even he knows nothing. Practically nothing. Let your people finally understand that we Poles really have a damned good education---historical and otherwise. We are all doctors! At least, I'm already a doctor many times over [honorary university degrees].

Aide: He has six doctorates!

Walesa: Exactly. And I make mistakes. [Laughs]

Another Aide: Seven! Already seven!

Playboy: For a man with a lot of weight on his shoulders, you obviously stay relaxed. How do you do it?

Walesa: I collapsed an hour ago, slept for an hour and now I am relaxed. But in another hour, I'll collapse again. I'll talk with you a while longer, but then I'll be finished. I put everything into these efforts.

Playboy: Have you studied the labor movement in the U. S. and in the West generally? And, if so, what are the major structural differences with Solidarity?

Walesa: I am a spy of life. I spy on everything. I study all. Whenever I have time for it, of course. Now, I don't deliberate on American trade unions, because I can more or less deduce what they are like. Since America is a capitalist state, its interests are different; therefore, the unions are different. Some adhere to one party, others to another, still others say everyone else is doing things the wrong way. So I can imagine how and what things are over there. And I shall probably be right, provided I think logically: Take the conditions that they have, see the limits they have, who is in charge, what's at his disposal, etc. So I can imagine it all, provided that I concede it is a country with a different system of government.

Playboy: Of course, but does that knowledge about unions in the West help you in any way work out the Polish model?

Walesa: It helps me avoid the mistakes that Western unions---in my opinion---make.

Playboy: What are some of those mistakes?

Walesa: The American model cannot be directly compared with ours. Here we have one party, a monopoly in government, in administration, in money, in everything. In the United States, it is somewhat different, as it is in all other capitalist countries, so their models do not apply to us.

Playboy: You don't see any possibility of securing a multiparty system in Poland, do you?

Walesa: Perhaps differently, if we do not limit ourselves to names. A number of political parties? No. But it could be accomplished differently. There can be a strong and vigorous organization of canary breeders, for example, who would be so strong, so beautifully efficient that it could rally people, close down stores. But it would not be political by name.

Playboy: It would be a political force, in other words-----

Walesa: Yes. That canary breeders' union would publicize its views that its elections are wrong---because the canaries aren't participating in the elections, for example [the Aides laugh]---and they will say, "Now, hold it, what sort of elections are these? Is this supposed to be democracy?" Yes, indeed. So the point is not in the words political party. For as soon as it is a "political party," it immediately wants to take over the government---or so they claim here. But our canary breeders, by forcing new elections through publicity, do the same job.

Playboy: And you wouldn't want to have the job done in a more formal, more obviously political way?

Walesa: No, no. Why bang your head against the wall when you can take a hammer and smash it against the wall?

Playboy: We know this question may be loaded, but who or what is your bigger enemy in Poland---the party or the Russians?

Walesa: Neither. The enemy, our most vicious enemies, are ourselves. That's the answer. We must understand one another better. We must stop being so suspicious of one another. To trust one another and, at the same time, trust nobody---this is a complex problem. So we are our own greatest threat. We threaten ourselves when we fight among one another for executive position, tripping over one another as we run for the most important chairs.

Playboy: To rebuild economically, what do you see as your greatest roadblock: the internal Polish system or-----

Walesa: I find no roadblocks. There is no obstacle that cannot be removed. Everything can be surmounted, everything can be conquered---everything! It only depends on your choice of weapons, your choice of means, on the degree to which you are blinded by rage. I used to make such damn blunders! That is, I used to act this way [looks pugnacious and stubborn]: "What? No? Oh, no!" And I would get it straight on the jaw. Finally. I came to the conclusion that that wasn't the way. Since I lost, it means I wasn't right. So now I turn it around and I think: Aha! I cannot defeat you today. OK. bye. Let's try it from another angle. And another. Then another still. And if I do not succeed, it means that I am not clever enough or am incapable of choosing the correct weapons.

To recapitulate: There are no obstacles that we cannot surmount. Of course, I don't mean such theoretical obstacles as reaching Jupiter in one jump or bringing the sun down with a rake, no. Only the realistic obstacles, the ones that you meet in everyday life, under normal conditions.

Playboy: These are certainly not normal conditions. Why do you think the Russians still allow you to carry on? After all, for 36 years, things were done their way, and this is a very different situation for them.

Walesa: Because we outsmarted everyone. We learned from their models, we are their students, and no teacher can outsmart a good student.

Playboy: You mean their tactics ricocheted? [Walesa and his Aides laugh.]

Walesa: That's right.

Playboy: As in the case of the farmers, perhaps? In Geneva, the Russians voted in favor of a farmers' trade union but later, in Poland, claimed that there was no legal basis for forming a union of individual farmers. Is that one example?

Walesa: I'm very tired now. [There is an interruption and the question is not answered. The interview resumes later.]

Playboy: There are other reasons, to be sure, but isn't the labor unrest at least partially responsible for all the shortages and for inflation?

Walesa: Of course it is. How could it be different? If I don't bake any bread and later say, "Give me bread!"---that is illogical. A baker cannot logically go on strike and then make a fuss because there is no bread. So, certainly; yes. But, at the same time, it is necessary to get to the root of why this bread disappeared, or why it was badly managed or badly distributed. This problem needs to be examined from several angles. We always hold that our work is wasted, destroyed, badly sold. etc. And in this, we see the main cause for the losses or shortages. We do not think it is because of how we work. We do not because, indeed, our work has been destroyed for many years---by building plants in the wrong places, by doing what was not needed, etc. This went on for such a long time that today we want to take care of these matters first. That way, we can get different results. Am I saying it right? Yes, I think so.

Playboy: This question could only come from a country with food surpluses, such as America, but if consumers in cities go on strike or won't pay higher meat prices, doesn't that hurt the farmers who raise the livestock?

Walesa: No. You have to move in a real world, the one that we live in. But let's put it differently---in ten or 20 years, when we establish international contacts, when factories establish contacts with other factories, and so forth, I don't rule out the possibility that we would eat American meat instead of Polish. Because this or that manufacturer or processor will decide, No, they won't buy from Polish farmers, for they don't do it as cleanly or as well as the Americans. So the theoretical problem you raise is possible, but for the time being, there's no such danger.

Playboy: This is a commonly heard criticism in the West: Walesa can get people to go on strike, but he can't get them to work. Why not?

Walesa: No, no, no! As I've told you, everything can be done, I can do almost everything! However, in order to play the game, one needs cards. Take the "free Saturdays" issue, for example. [The government required. Poles to work on Saturdays. Solidarity successfully fought for revocation of the edict.] If during talks with the government I had been given the cards I wanted---and I did ask for them---the game could have been much more interesting and strong. But I wasn't given them. I did say officially: "Give me a card; I want to play."

Playboy: We don't understand---you mean if the union-----

Walesa: No, not the union, the government in this case. I cannot be more explicit. I needed cards, some cards that in the end we got anyway. But once again, the government party's pride wouldn't let them give us the cards just like that: "Here you are. You've got the better of the government---once again." The idea was not to give it to us.

Playboy: "It" meaning more freedom for the union?

Walesa: No ... we'll enslave ourselves on our own. [Laughs] No, at that moment, we needed the following: to supervise the storehouses that the government claimed were empty. We wanted to check them and say, "Yes, indeed. The storehouses are empty." What other card did I want? I wanted something else, I can't remember right now. ... (concluded on page 162) Lech Walesa (continued from page 70)

Anyway, had I got them, oh, that would have been beautiful, but they didn't give me any. Or, rather, they did, but not by dealing over the table, on the table, but under the table. Do you understand now?

Playboy: Somewhat. Let's suppose the party discredits itself further at some point---

Walesa: I don't want that. I'll help the party once it starts to discredit itself or collapse. There are no other realities here. We cannot overthrow the party. We cannot take the power away from it. We have to preserve it. At the same time, tame it, and let it eat with us, so that it will relish what we create.

Playboy: What then, if the party is still just as weak?

Walesa: I'll join the party.

Playboy: You'll join the party? [Nervous laughter among Walesa's aides]

Walesa: We cannot let the party become very weak. We know that with control, with constant prompting of our wishes and with help, this party will do a good job and people will be happy about it. But we have to create the proper conditions for this party. The conditions it had up until now were no conditions. And that's why we have to educate the party. Under no circumstances can we overthrow it, for that would be a disaster for all of us. Therefore, we want it to subsist and, at the same time, we want to control its activities. We want to live. We want the party to serve us---and it will serve us. We'll teach it to.

Playboy: By disaster, do you mean the Russians would not stand by any longer?

Walesa: No, no, no. Not the Russians. We would shoot each other down!

Playboy: Without any party, you think Poles would shoot each other down?

Walesa: Yes! Do you think that without the party I would not push myself for president? Or that my friend Jacek Kuron wouldn't also? Or [Leszek] Moczulski? Oh, come on! [Laughter around the room] We would all shoot each other down! We have no programs, we have no programs!

Playboy: You can see no alternative to the party? The parliament? The courts?

Walesa: The parliament would fall apart, too. Everything would fall apart. No, ma'am. Right now, the arrangement is such that the party watches everything. But later, if there were no party, everything would just scatter. It's as if you brought us a basket of ants. In the basket, the ants stay together; but try to empty the basket, and, Jezus, we'd never hold them!

Playboy: What about Prime Minister Wojciech Jaruzelski? Would he be an obvious candidate to become president?

Walesa: I don't think so. Although it's hard to say. Hardly anyone who has tasted some power as I have tasted it, who understands it and who wants to be honest about it, when faced with the possibility of giving it up, will give up power that easily. He will not want to. I don't want power anymore. Although I'm not saying that I would not accept something ... but I really don't like it. If you knew how much I dislike it ... but, poor me, what can I do? What other choice do I have? None.

Playboy: Do you agree that a workers' revolt is the one thing that genuinely challenges the Soviet system of control, since the Soviet system is supposedly based on the consent of the working class?

Walesa: I don't agree with that at all. The workers' movement does not challenge anyone. We ourselves challenge one another with this revolt. Who is responsible that things in Poland got to where they are? We are! Like a flock of sheep, we went to the polls, we applauded and shouted our support for each new policy. I shouted, too. When someone announced a meeting with a deputy or a councilor, we were the ones who didn't go. We went out for a beer instead. We elected decent people. At some point, I was even elected somewhere, and spat upon two days later. So this revolt is not a challenge to the Soviets but to ourselves. We are responsible for this mess. When some director did something wrong, all these people who looked on---where were they? So let's examine this revolt and we will find that we were the guilty ones. I was, too.

Playboy: How serious is the split between the moderates and the radicals in the union? Have you become too much of a moderate for your hardliners?

Walesa: No, no. This is a great misunderstanding that I will try to straighten out. I am damned radical, but not suicidal. I am a man who has to win, for he does not know how to lose. At the same time, if I know that I cannot win today because I don't have a good enough hand, I ask for a reshuffling and then check whether I have gotten a better hand. I never give up. I'm damned radical, I repeat. But I don't walk into a stone wall with my eyes shut---I'd be a fool. There are some such fools, but not me. If I see that I cannot win today, I ask myself: Damn it, why is he stronger than me? Is there any other way I can get at him? And I try the other way.

In Bydgoszcz, some of our supporters were beaten up, and that made a lot of people think. Some party members, who are also people, thought, This is a bad affair---someday I could be beaten up as well. And so they end up supporting us. There was also a police---[Here the transmission of this interview from Warsaw to New York by telex was halted, from the Warsaw end. After a pause of several minutes, transmission resumed.] precinct that hadn't known about the beatings, and they supported us, too. So there is much evidence that in the end, we'll win, and here is my radicalism, a sensible one. I don't want to pay. I don't like to pay. I like to satisfy my appetite, but I don't like to pay.

Playboy: How does your religion and the reality of a Polish Pope influence your decisions and actions?

Walesa: I believe in God. As a matter of fact, if not for my faith, I would not be here. I would have walked away a long time ago. What do I need this for? As things were, I lived like a human being. Now what do I live like? It is all so hard, so thankless, that it's beyond my strength. But I am religious, and thus I endure. And there's beauty in everything. Even in pain. One can enjoy everything. One only has to know how to enjoy.

Playboy: Even if you cannot always be home for supper?

Walesa: Of course. So I am enjoying the fact that I didn't eat today.

Playboy: We talked to your wife and she worries---

Walesa: She understands me less and less. My wife does not understand me; I don't know whether anyone at all understands me. ... It's late now. I've given you so much time. I must go.

Playboy: Just one thing more. Would you ever like to live in the United States?

Walesa: [Mockingly imitates a Polish-American accent] No, no. I like Poland and I am here. I will go, of course, because there are interesting things in America, pretty things, many snobs. [Laughs and returns to his normal pronunciations] I want to get to know all people, I want to go to the States, for we owe them a lot in general. ... I'll check it out a bit, see how things are there, though I almost know. I know quite a lot.

"This revolt is not a challenge to the Soviets but to ourselves. We are responsible for this mess."

"I'll help the party once it starts to collapse. There are no other realities here."